


Solstice From the Storm

by kummerspeck



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Distopia, Alternate Universe - No Sgrub Session, F/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 04:36:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kummerspeck/pseuds/kummerspeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By law it's illegal, everything you want. Illicit moments of contact, a warm hand to hold your cold one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solstice From the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Homestuck fic, it's actually a word for word copy of and English assignment I wrote a couple of weeks ago. And I figured why not do both a kick-ass story about a distopian society as well as the best parring in Homestuck? Nepeta/Equius are the truest OPT ever; they're the moirallegiance that I hope to have one day. Truthfully I just wanted to write fluff about these two cuties.

She lay in bed. The covers where over her head. Coloured dark blue. She hated the light. From the street. From her phone. That was in the corner glowing brightly. The noise on the street was loud. It filled the empty space in the apartment. Her stomach turned, she curled in on her self. She was lonely. 

The door opened. It was loud. A creaky sound that grated on everyone’s nerves. A tall man stood there. He blocked out the light. Her eyes where thankful. They where happy to be so close together. They wish they where closer. She reaches out to him, he took a step closer. The floor sagged under his weight. She moved to make space. She left a void in her wake. Infinite as the light all around them. He lay in the where she was before. Missing her more then ever. 

He let a hot breath out. It sounded like a whistle. His teeth were broken. She sniffled, nose scrunching up. Her eyes closed, she kept them that way. He turned towards her. Lying on his side. He sought out her face, he couldn’t see her. Not through the dark of the room.  
He whispered her name. She hummed in response. They lay together, carefully not touching while sharing space. Time passed turning seconds into minutes. Minutes into hours. They breath together; hearts beating in tandem. Pushing blood through their bodies. Her eyes fluter close. Slowly she falls into sleep. 

He closes his eyes. She looks asleep, resting quietly. Messy black hair falling around her shoulders. He wishes he could help. Sooth her; heal her wounds. Hurt inflicted by the world. She looks soft and breakable. Tiny frame. Dark skin. Surrounded by deep blue duvets. He watches her sleep. He wants to protect her. 

As he waits for sleep. Eyes heavy and tired. Dark circles form countless night. Of nightmares and insomnia. She whispers a question. It’s drowned out. By the sounds of the city surrounding them. Too quite to really hear. He wonders what she said. What she dreams about. 

Then she repeats, “What would you do. If the ban was lifted?” She goes on, “I would get someone to hold me. Who ever was closest.”

“Would you choose me?”

He was not meant to hear, “Yes,” She breathes in. The air is full of toxins. Heavy with heat, “I want- I would-”

He exhales, “How much?”

She smiles. No one but the dark can see, “I would break the law.”

He puts a hand out. Skin startlingly pale against bedding. Olive green sheets clashing with dark blue duvets. She turns. Dark eyes straining to look at him. Her movements are slow. Afraid of what she so desperately wants. Her hand lays next to his. They wait, breath shallow. Lying close together. They can feel the heat off the other. 

She shifts her hand. Their palms lay flat. Resting one on top of the other. Then weaves their fingers together. His fingers dwarf her’s. He inhales sharply. Through his nose. Mouth presses into a nervous line. She sigh. Her mouth open and relaxed. It’s quite. Their hands rapidly warm. The singular point of contact. Burning hot. It is comforting. To know someone else in there.

They feel safe. In the darkness. Full of light. From the street. From the computers and cellphones. T.V.s and game consuls. Things that never stop glowing. Hidden in the darkness.. Their secret will never be repeated. Not through their lips. Holding smiles. As if they where drowning for years. Their joined hands like a buoy. They cling to it in a never ending sea. 

They fell asleep. Clung desperately to the one point connection. The one they shared. As they slept they curve in closer. Seeking heat. Needing more. Feeling a another person. Pressed close together. To feel wanted. To hold; to be held. 

They could have slept on. Soundly, all night. Nothing would have woke them. Not the constant noise of the streets. Full of people and machines. That never stop. Never touch. Invisible boundaries keep them all apart. People connect in other ways. Phones that never stop buzzing. Always glowing. Computers perpetually humming. All look the same. You can’t miss it. What was never there. No more then you can hate it. It’s the only thing you know. 

It is sleep is what truly damns them. Wrapped up in one another. Holding on. Until the end. Their shared moment would be stains. They are mistakes. No one will know their names. They are not a revolution. They are blood stains. Tragedies never meant to happen.

Dark Trucks pull up. They are soundless and smooth. They are lined with people. They sit in black armour. Dark as nights once were. They move so close together. Never touching. Filling halls. Moulding and dank. Full of water marks. Acid stains. Like shadows. Leaving a tip, tip, tip behind. Quieter then technology. They are masked by the whirring. All around them. Seeping though the walls. Flimsy ceiling. Floating through the floor. Crumpling like paper. Valuable, but worthless. Parts of a useless whole. Bending before they are touched. 

Deft feet take them through the halls. Rooms Spilling over with light. The pause. A silent hand is raised. Each finder is lowered slowly. A deadly countdown. Three (heart beats before death). Two (lives ruined). One (life taken). The door fold into it’s self.  
She starts. Noise pours in. Sounds that held their breath. Screaming out, and unholy harmony. Shots right through the air. The sound is so tribally loud. She is so afraid. Tears in her eyes. Cooling on hot skin. Fear thrumming through her. The covers are wet. Her palms are covered in blood. She isn’t in pain. It is not her blood. Nothing has touched her.

The bullets had hit him. He was her protector one last time. She was his friend. She would not die. Not for him. Not now. In her own bed. She would die fighting. So strong. Much stronger then him. Not in punishment for what he asked of her. What she was pushed into. She would live. He was happy to die for her. If it meant she would live. Live for him. Because of him. She was better them him anyway. His body slumped forward. Blood pouring from holes. Holes in his chest. As his heart beat. Once. Twice. Three times. Still. Sheets beneath him black with blood. 

They surrounded her. A plastic noose on a long metal pole. She was an animal. Screaming out. It was around her neck. Tightening as she fought. The more she fought the less she could breath. Cutting off her words. Leaving silence in their wake. Steady and quite. The shadows of people disappeared. Back down bright stairwells. Through well light corridors. A limp body dragged along.

Soon they were gone. All together. Leaving behind wet sheets. A blood soaked floor. Empty rooms. A memory. A lingering touch. A moment of contact. Of comfort.


End file.
